Someone like you
by cedari
Summary: Uther is determined to marry Arthur off to the bride of his choice. But perhaps Arthur is finally going to confess his true feelings. Bit of fluff.


**Someone like you.**

**By Cedari**

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, plots etc from bbcs merlin. Inspired by Kings of Leon amazing song, "Use somebody." I do not own any of their lyrics.

Authors Note: Fun bit of very rusty fluff.

**Chapter 1: You know that I could use somebody**

He sat there desperately trying to ignore the woman next to him. His candidate for a bride that had been presented to him so eagerly by his father, so determinately and deliberately. Her father was one of the warlords from the neighbouring provinces. His land rich with crops, his pockets filled with gold and his daughter young and pretty. His father had not attempted to hide his intentions.

"Marry her Arthur, and Camelot will be secure. Nothing bad can come of it. You will be one of the most feared kings in the land. And she is of the right age to breed."

"She is not cattle father."

Uther's hand had waved away Arthurs comment.

"You will sit next to her tonight. You will charm her. Woo her. And do anything else you must do to get her to marry you."

"Yes father."

There was no window for argument. He could feel Merlin's gaze boring into the back of his head.

"Good. Good." Uther pat him on his shoulder. His hand lingered for a moment. "You will make me so proud son."

Arthur felt his stomach drop and his heart deflate with the weight of his father's expectations.

"Don't say it Merlin."

Arthur rightly imagined his over opinionated servant bursting to voice his feelings on the matter as soon as Uther had closed the mahogany door behind him. But as ever Merlin ignored his lord's wishes.

"But you love Gwen. Not this princess. You know she'll be nothing in comparison to Gwen. She'll be vain and bossy, and rude."

Arthur sighed. "Anything else you would like to add Merlin?"

"And. And. You know she will just be horrible." Merlin's tirade spluttered to an end.

Arthur turned to face his servant.

"Do you not think I know that? Do you not think I know there is no woman out there for me but Gwen? She is everything to me. But at the same time..." Arthur felt that familiar pull of reality tugging him back to his heritage, his roots. "But at the same time she can mean nothing to me. "

Master and servant looked at each other in silence. Arthur could tell that Merlin wanted to comfort him, to offer him hope. But they had had this conversation too often, and it always ended in the same conclusion. Arthur was to be king and the lady was only a lady in nature, and not in title.

"Leave me. I have to get ready." Arthur turned to the clothes that Merlin had laid on his bed for tonight.

So here he was sat next to a lady painted to kingdom come and being served by a serving girl whose beauty radiated through her very being. Which was the rock and which was the hard place? He wasn't sure.

Gwen was making the rounds with the wine around the tables below him. From his high table he had the perfect perch from which to observe her, to admire her. All around her the ladies giggled and flirted. Decorated in their finery, their rich silks and satins, their armour for the evening. There was a time when Arthur was like his fellow knights and was drawn to these brightly coloured creatures with their words of flattery. But recent times had seen him grow and mature in ways that they had not. She had a part to play in that. The girl who passed between them in her plain, cream cotton gown. Her words of encouragement and praise had not fallen from her lips readily. She had made him earn them. And for that he admired her that much further.

"I was just saying. Do you not think that I have the most beautiful wrists you have ever seen?"

A scrawny vision of sickly pale skin and bone blocked his vision of Gwen. Arthur took a deep breath in before turning to answer his companion for the evening. Merlin of course had been right. Germaine was vain, and bossy and rude. And just horrible.

She shook her wrist at him again, the gold bangles adorning the limb jangled noisily.

But she was also rich, and, as his father would say "of good stock."

"Yes. Your wrists truly are beautiful." Arthur cringed inwardly when he saw the look of smugness that graced her face. It ruined features that had they not been twisted in such a displeasing manner, may have been described as handsome. It was at that moment that Arthur could sense her presence behind him. He turned. Her figure was stiff from seeing what she thought of as an intimate conversation. Her eyes were downcast, steadfastly refusing to meet his own, though he willed it with all his might.

"Would you like another drink Sire?"

He passed her his cup and his fingers ghosted along hers as the goblet passed from his hand to hers. He saw her eyes close for the briefest of moments, and her breath catch in her throat. The wine remained unpoured for a split second.

"Thank you."

His words broke her reverie and her eyes flickered open. She swallowed and took a sharp intake of breath. He watched as trembling hands poured the deep red wine. His heart was beating so loudly that he could barely think. His fingers were burning with the memory of her touch. She leaned over to place the goblet next to his plate. The movement was enough to bring her cheek close to his own. He could feel the heat coming off her in glorious waves, crashing into him and warming him from the inside out.

"Here you might as well take this as well. I don't want anymore. So you might as well wash it in the kitchens."

Germaine thrust her cup in Gwens direction.

"Now shoo."

Arthur could see the bloom of red that burst into life on Gwen's cheeks. Her eyes flashing with anger.

"Yes my lady. It will be my pleasure." With that Gwen was gone, and the warmth gone with her.

"Do you ever get the feeling that all you want in life is somebody to share it with?" Germaine asked him, a meaningful glance punctuating her question.

"Yes."

Arthur was too busy tracking Gwen as she made her way to the lower quarters, to the kitchens, that he did not notice the triumphant smile that passed between daughter and father.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


End file.
